


Authentic

by lauraxtennant



Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Sexual Content, kilt, post-BAFTAs fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lauraxtennant/pseuds/lauraxtennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billie and David share a ride home after the awards show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Once the car started moving, away from the award show, away from the paparazzi and their insistent click click clicking of the cameras shoved up right against the windows, David breathed out a sigh of relief. His hand was positioned in between him and Billie, his palm flat against the leather of the seat, and now that they were out of sight, he inched his fingers closer to her. He continued looking straight ahead of him, but he could tell that she’d noticed his movement, because she smiled to herself and popped her phone in the side of the door. Within two seconds, her hand was also on the seat; the tips of their little fingers brushed slightly, then linked loosely.

His lips twitched. In his peripheral vision, he saw hers twitch, too. His other fingers crept over hers slowly, his skin tingling, until his hand covered hers completely. She turned her hand over and their palms met. He still didn’t look at her. She entwined their fingers tightly, and he broke, glancing at her with a chuckle. Her eyes sparkled at him mischievously, and his chest almost hurt with the way his heart was pounding so hard against his ribs.

"Quite the evening," she murmured, her voice low and sultry in that way he knew she did on purpose, knew she did because she knew exactly what it did to him.

"Mmhmm," he agreed. He glanced to the front seat, where their driver for the evening was happily humming along to the radio, seemingly paying them no attention. "Another triumph for the show."

"Yes," Billie nodded. A strand of her hair fell in front of her face, and he used his free hand to sweep it aside, leaning across the space between them to tuck it behind her ear.

"I like this dress," he whispered, before he sat back in his seat and faced forward again.

Billie giggled. “I like yours,” she whispered back.

He turned his head to face her, affronted. “It’s a kilt,” he said, mock-sternly, his brow furrowed.

"And it’s gorgeous," she grinned cheekily, touching the corner of her mouth with her tongue. "I like all the leg on show."

"Now, you say that and it’s almost a compliment, except I think you might be going for sarcasm."

"No, no, never," she laughed, tightening the grip she had on his hand. "All that manly hairy leg on display - it does things to a girl, you know."

"Well, could say the same about yours," he retorted. "Except for the manly hairy bit. Although they are that, too, sometimes."

"Oi. Wanker."

"Well…" he laughed. He reached his left hand between them and grabbed their joined hands, lifting them onto his thigh. She had to scoot closer on the backseat, and her seatbelt extended slightly with her movement. "Your hand is very cold," he murmured. Holding her small hand in both of his, he tried to warm it up, rubbing her fingers gently.

She was smiling at him. “Warm heart, you see.”

"Ah, yes. That’s very true."

"You think?"

"You have the warmest heart I know," he assured her, with a quick grin.

"It was getting pretty warm in that corridor, earlier," she said casually.

"When?"

"When that person asked me what it was like to kiss you."

"Oh, then. Yes."

She wriggled her hand free of his and placed it on his thigh, her fingers curling into the tartan. “You don’t think anyone’s guessed, do you?”

"Guessed what?" he whispered, trying not to noticeably breathe too quickly.

"Look at me," she murmured. He did. She was biting her lip, and she looked almost nervous.

"Guessed what?" he repeated hoarsely, his throat dry.

Billie smiled secretively, then. Ignoring his inquiring response, she asked another question, “Do you know what I wanted to do whilst we were sitting at that table, hearing those awards being announced?”

"No…" He glanced hesitantly at their driver, hoping the man wasn’t listening in. He was busy humming a Beatles song, so David was inclined to think that they had at least a small measure of privacy. He didn’t know that track; he briefly wondered if he ought to buy a Beatles album, because everyone was supposed to love the Beatles, weren’t they? And he didn’t really know much about - 

Billie squeezed his leg.

Oh, right; Billie was sitting right next to him and seemed to be interested in inching her hand up his kilt, so it probably wasn’t the best time to be thinking about adding to his CD collection.

"What I wanted to do," she murmured, "Was see if you were being authentic, tonight."

He swallowed thickly, cottoning on to what she was saying. “Oh, I’m a proper Scotsman,” he replied. “Always authentic, me.”

A slow smile spread across her face. “I was hoping you would say that,” she said. “Because I thought, in the spirit of teamwork and camaraderie, I’d celebrate your heritage with you tonight. With the benefit of…easy-access.”

His eyes widened and he looked at her lap. “Wait, are you - “

Billie licked her lips. “I may have forgone a certain garment this evening, yeah.”

"Ohhhh," he near-groaned. "You - ah."

"Thought, when this nice gentleman drops you home," she said, inclining her head towards their driver, "That I could come up for a drink. And, you know…"

"You said that - " he started, his heart frantically racing inside his chest. He didn’t want to argue with her or deny her request, because her suggestion was really quite a wonderful one, but before, she’d said - told him - "You said we had to stop all that. I thought - I didn’t think you wanted…"

"It’s - it wasn’t right, I felt - " she stammered, her eyes darting around the car as she searched for words. "I couldn’t keep cheating, it was - I’d never done that before, and I couldn’t - "

"Then…?"

"It’s over with him."

All the air rushed out of him on one hopeful word, “Really?”

"Yeah. So, I thought…I mean…"

"Wait, does this mean - "

"Well, it - it could." She squeezed his thigh again for emphasis. "I mean, if you want."

"But do you want - "

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

He nodded quickly. “Then, yeah.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You’re coming home with me."

"Definitely?"

"Definitely."

She smiled at him in relief, then leant across the space between them to whisper, “That sporran hiding anything?”

He chuckled breathlessly. “Yes, it very well might be.” Of course it was. And thank goodness for it; it would be terribly awkward if the driver were to glance in his rear-view mirror and see something tenting David’s kilt. Mind you, at the journey Billie’s hand was taking - 

"Bills, let’s, ah, wait," he said quietly, nodding towards the front of the car to indicate the meaning of his reluctance.

She laughed and placed her hand back on the seat between them. “Yeah.” She glanced out of the window. “Oh, we’re nearly at yours, anyway.”

"Yeah," he agreed. "Nearly home."


	2. Chapter 2

Three minutes later, they were climbing the stairs to his flat. Billie took the lead, and David mused that if her dress wasn’t so long, he’d probably be able to see right up to where she apparently wasn’t wearing any knickers. As it was, he was just about resisting sliding his hands up her bare calves.

He wondered if she’d keep those red shoes on whilst they –

He had to steady himself with a hand on the banister at the thought.

Finally, finally, he was unlocking his front door and guiding her inside with a hand on the small of her back. Once safely away from any prying eyes of his neighbours or otherwise, he shut the door with his foot as he turned her towards him and leant in for a kiss, fumbling to switch on the light behind her. Her lips met his instantly, equally eager, equally passionate, as they stumbled backwards. He pushed her up against the wall in his hallway, his hands lingering on her waist, her hips. And then she moaned against his mouth and he decided that there was someplace else his hands would like to be.

Slowly, to tease her as much as possible after the car ride they’d just had, he inched her dress up her thighs with one hand, his other sliding beneath the hem and touching her thigh. She made a noise of approval and widened her stance; his fingertips grazed lightly at the inside of her thigh, dancing across the sensitive skin and god, he could feel her wetness already, “Jesus, Bills,” he muttered against her mouth, and she bit his bottom lip before pulling back to gasp, his hand having found its way up, up, up, and there, brushing against her folds, denying her clit for the moment as he slid a finger inside her, meeting no resistance. She must’ve been aroused for hours, he thought, the noises she was making, the amount of moisture there to greet him.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened and she pressed her forehead to his cheek, panting softly. “David,” she whispered, pleading, and he grinned. Slid another finger inside her and brought his thumb to her clit, pressing down softly.

“I’m really quite impressed,” he murmured.

“What?” she gasped, as he moved his thumb in small circles. “At what?”

“At how you managed to resist sliding into my lap in the car, or at the awards for that matter,” he clarified, pressing light kisses across her face, her cheeks, down to her chin and jaw.

“Shut up.”

“Just pointing out that I had no idea you were this – you are a fan _tast_ ic actress.”

“Mmm well we’ll see about that,” she teased, looking up at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. God, she was sexy.

“You’ll have no need to showcase that tonight,” he assured her, almost insulted that she would hint at needing to fake it, with him. He frowned. “Wait, are you saying – before, did you - ”

Billie grinned. “Nah.”

“Really?”

“You getting a complex?”

“A bit, yeah, now I am, yeah.” He sped up the movement of his pumping fingers, as if rising to meet her challenge.

Her head tilted back, leaving lots of lovely neck on display for him to nibble on. He lowered his mouth to her throat, his tongue darting out for a few seconds before his teeth came into play, biting her skin lightly, skimming over her pulse point and feeling it thrum against his lips.

“Need more,” she gasped, her fingers tightening on his shoulders again. “No, wait,” she corrected herself, then nudged away his hand; her dress fell back into place and his eyes widened when she whimpered from the loss. “Just…” she said next, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she opened them, and looked at him with great purpose, _determination_ , in her gaze. She dropped to her knees. Oh, Jesus.

“Bills, you - ”

“Just want to check that you were being honest with me,” she grinned up at him, tongue caught between her teeth. Unceremoniously, she flipped his kilt up and just looked for a few seconds, then hummed in satisfaction and said, “Hold this.” Bewildered, he held his kilt up for her like she asked, wondering why – and oh, fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s why. She took a long lick up his shaft and was then very quickly encasing his cock in her gorgeous mouth, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself but he was pretty sure his legs were going to buckle underneath him if she kept that intricate movement up.

“Billie – Bills, okay, oh, no,” he muttered nonsense at her for a minute or so, then urged her to stand up. She licked her lips and he shook his head her. “Do you have to be so ridiculously gorgeous?” he asked.

She shrugged coyly. “Why’d you make me stop? I was enjoying that.”

“Wasn’t going to last much longer,” he admitted, then silenced her giggling with his mouth covering hers again, tongue plunging in to entwine with hers.

After a short while, when she pulled away to inhale a breath, she wriggled free from his grasp, where it held her against the wall, and walked backwards into his living room. Oh, yeah. Probably a good idea to move this out of the hallway, he realised.

“I want to get you naked but I have no idea how to deal with all of these…contraptions,” she said, gesturing to his kilt and all its required accompaniments. She perched on the back of his sofa. “So I’m thinking how about you just strip for me.”

He chuckled. “I’ve been getting the feeling that you’ve been laughing at me all evening, wearing this get-up,” he said, as he took off his jacket. 

She gaped at him. “Nooo,” she breathed out roughly. “I think it’s sexy.”

“Yeah, right.” He deftly removed his bowtie then started on his waistcoat.

“I’m being serious,” she said firmly. “Stop trying to dismiss the compliment.”

David lifted his eyebrows in surprise. “If I’d known that, I would’ve been wearing my kilt every time we’re out at one of these ‘dos.”

“Well, I like you in a nice velvet suit, too,” she said, her lips twitching.

“Really?” he smiled.

“No,” she giggled. “Sorry, the velvet’s – I can take it, it’s fine on you, really, but it’s not exactly…stylish.”

He poked his tongue out at her and removed his sporran. “Well, I like them. And you weren’t complaining that night you used my velvet jacket as a blanket. Cosy, that was.”

Billie laughed, and swayed her legs back and forth from her perch on the back of the sofa. She was getting restless, so he sped up his striptease and added an exaggerated eyebrow waggle to prolong her giggling.

Before taking off his kilt, he quickly got rid of his shoes and socks. Stepping forwards, closer to Billie, he allowed her to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders whilst he unfastened his kilt and let it drop to the floor. She ran her hands down his chest, her red nails trailing through the smattering of hair there before venturing down to his abdomen. She stroked the line of his appendectomy scar and he shivered. Meeting his eyes, she looked up at him through her lashes, and they just stared at each other for a few moments, silent and unmoving.

“I’m glad - ” he started, breaking the quiet spell that had descended around them.

“About what?” she whispered back. Her hand wrapped around his cock and she pumped once, twice.

“Us – that you – that you’re here.”

“Me too.”

He grabbed the undersides of her knees and widened her legs, stepping in between them. She scooted closer, looping her arms around his neck to maintain her precarious position and not topple backwards. Burying his face in her neck, he used one hand to hold her in place and the other to guide himself to her folds. His cock nudged at her entrance for a moment, and then she commanded softly, “Now,” and he was in, surging forwards and groaning in pleasure at the feel of her snugly surrounding him. Her legs came up around his waist and he could feel those tempting red heels digging into his bum as she urged him to move faster.

Being inside her was a feeling like nothing else; he’d ended up with one hell of a craving where she was concerned. When she had told him that their rendezvous had to stop, a few weeks back, he’d been gutted. It had been – and now he wasn’t the sort of person to relish in situations like infidelity, in fact, he hated the part of himself that had allowed their affair to continue for so long – but it had been fun, and delicious, and naughty, and everything he never realised he could have in a relationship. But he’d always wanted more, even before she called things off. He’d wanted her mornings and her bad days and her weeks and her years, not just the moments they could scramble together whilst their respective partners weren’t looking or at the end of a long day’s filming. And now they were both free, at the same time, for the first time; neither one of them in another relationship. What’s more, from what she’d said in the car earlier, it almost sounded as though she’d broken things off with her boyfriend so that she could – so that they could – resume things, without the constant companion of guilt.

And here they were, him naked, her still dressed, him inside her, her clinging on for dear life. He wanted this for – oh, just, always. But he was losing his grip on her a bit and she was in serious danger of falling over so he reckoned they ought to switch locations.

"Bills," he whispered, hoisting her into his arms more securely. He lifted her from her seat on the back of the sofa and carried her, stumbling only slightly, towards his bedroom.

"You’re stronger than you look," she laughed, taking the opportunity to nibble at his neck.

He lowered her to his bed and let out an exaggerated, “Oof! And you’re heavier than you look,” he teased.

He thrust back in fully, punctuating it with a kiss on her lips. He set up a quick rhythm, encouraging her to bend her legs so that he could slide in at a deeper angle. “Should have got this dress off you,” he mused. “I’ve missed your breasts.”

“You can say hi to them later,” she groaned, “Just, fuck, harder, David.”

“As you wish,” he chuckled, and leant down lower, grabbing the headboard with one hand to piston his hips faster. One of her hands slipped between them and helped herself along, and within a few more minutes she was coming hard around him, her muscles clenching, setting off his own release as he groaned her name and spurted inside her.

When he stopped seeing stars, he lowered himself carefully atop her, his nose brushing her cheek. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him loosely as they both caught their breaths.

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and rolled off her. “Will you stay, tonight?” he whispered.

She turned her head to face him. “I’ve – I’ve not stayed, before, have I?”

At first he took this as a rejection. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he agreed, “No, right, s’pose you haven’t.”

“No but I mean, I could, though, right? I mean, now that we’re – free, and all that. I couldn’t before but now I could…”

“Yes,” he said quickly. “Of course. That’s why I asked, I – I want you to. I want to wake up with you, I want – I want you.”

She smiled. “Then, yeah.” She trailed a finger down his chest. “Do you think anyone’s guessed?”

Her question rang a bell; he remembered her asking him that earlier, in the car. “Guessed what?” he said once again, his heart thumping.

Billie kissed his shoulder, smiling at him shyly. “That I’m in love with you.”

His breath caught. “I – no. No, I don’t think anyone’s – _I_ didn’t – really?”

“Not even you?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. He shook his head, bewildered. “Wow, I am a good actress, hiding that.”

“Oh, Bil,” he sighed, starting to grin.

“How about you?” she prompted hesitantly.

He rolled his eyes. “Well, you know that. Fell in love with you months ago; was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“Wasn’t a matter of catching up, Dave. Was there, running parallel to you the whole time. It’s just, neither of us realised,” she said, an uncharacteristically tender, almost vulnerable look in her eyes.

David rolled closer to her, pulling her against him for a hug, holding her tightly as he buried his face in her neck.

“We should get cleaned up,” she giggled in his ear.

“Yeah, I know. We can shower in a sec. Share one, if you want. Just, just give me a moment.”

She wrapped her arms around him, returning his embrace. “Course,” she said softly. “This is nice.”


End file.
